OH, FUCK YOU WITH KNIVES AND NOT IN A FUN, KINKY WAY, OP. With the gall to make a crass pun like “Tom Gayley,” who by the way has explicitly mentioned the fact that he still “fancies girls” in his coming out video, and is by his own admission QUEER but not GAY and THEN going and putting the hashtag #RespectTom on this bastardized shit post? You’re an asshole. Go away. Learn some shit about activism, respect, LGBTA+, and LIFE before you come back.
ALL BITCHES THIS IS MY HOME TOWN TAKE A FUCKING SEAT WHILE I TELL YOU THIS STORY. GET A BOWL OF POPCORN BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS DOPE
IN THE 1940’S PORTLAND WAS PUTTING IN LAMPPOSTS AND FOR WHATEVER GOD DAMN REASON THIS ONE NEVER GOT FILLED.
IN 1946, DICK FAGAN, AN AMERICAN IRISHMAN WHO WROTE FOR THE OREGON JOURNAL, GOT BLOODY FUCKING BORED AT HIS JOB AND WOULD LOOK OUT HIS WINDOW ONTO THIS SAD EXCUSE FOR ROAD CONSTRUCTION HOLE. ONE DAY HE SAID “FUCK THIS” AND PLANTED SOME FLOWERS.
HE WROTE ABOUT THIS NEW FUCKING PARK AND SPOKE ABOUT HOW LEPRECHAUNS LIVED THERE AND SHIT. MOTHERFUCKING LEPRECHAUNS IN THE MIDDLE OF DOWNTOWN, WHAT THE SHIT.
HOLD ONTO TO THE EDGE OF YOUR SEATS BECAUSE THIS RIDE GETS EVEN BETTER. THIS PARK HOLDS A GUINNESS WORLD RECORD FOR BEING THE SMALLEST PARK WITH WITH INFORMATION SAYING “It was designated as a city park on 17 March 1948 at the behest of the city journalist Dick Fagan (USA) for snail races and as a colony for leprechauns”. MOTHER. FUCKING. SNAIL RACES. BITCHES.
IT’S EVEN BEEN PIMPED OUT OVER THE YEARS
HO HO HO MOTHERFUCKS WE CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS HERE
WE CARE ABOUT THE ENVIRONMENT.
THE BEST PART IS THAT IT EVEN HAD OCCUPY PORTLAND PROTESTERS
SO I HOPE YOU FUCKING LEARNED SOMETHING TODAY ABOUT TINY ASS PARKS.
taken apart, blown apart, taken apart
put back together with
gold in the cracks to
aggrandize the damage,
as though I were a floral
Chinese vase of sentimental history
as though I had been waiting
to be reduced to dust,
to smithereens and glitter
I’ve handed out the hammer every time I’ve lost a chip
but what would you expect from
baptism by fire, by heat, by kiln
to seek again the ravaged
waste of such a birth so
once again to feel the scouring
lick of flame against ash-hardened sides
to seek out loving warmth ‘til it
destroys me by Thomas Murphy O’Hara (via katharses)
"The moment you fall in love feels like it has centuries behind it, generations—all of them rearranging themselves so that this precise, remarkable intersection could happen. In your heart, in your bones, no matter how silly you know it is, you feel that everything has been leading to this, all the secret arrows were pointing here, the universe and time itself crafted this long ago, and you are just now realizing it, you are just now arriving at the place you were always meant to be."
a romantic novel about two eldritch horror creatures in which the kissing scene is so abstract and horrendous, that instead of writing the kiss itself, the author interrupts the story with various articles about plant reproduction